


Interesting.

by Snake-house (CallmeKitten)



Series: BBC Sherlock Reader-Inserts [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: (off screen), Fluff, He/Him pronouns used for reader, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallmeKitten/pseuds/Snake-house
Summary: John’s friend is... interesting to Sherlock. He can get the basic picture of who he is, but never the full picture. There are no details, or rather the details he thinks he knows are not as clear as he thought; and the details he wishes to know are just out of reach.He wants to know more.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Reader, Sherlock Holmes/Reader
Series: BBC Sherlock Reader-Inserts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613125
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62





	Interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: light language, light sexual themes, mentions of rape/attempt of rape  
> he/him pronouns used for reader  
> ** reader is around mid-twenties and therefore younger than sherlock

"John, someone's at the door, go get it." Sherlock drawled from where he was perched on his desk, fiddling on his phone, "John, did you hear me? I said there was someone-" 

"I heard you the first time," The blond snapped, "You are closer to the door, I don't understand why I have to come from my room upstairs to open the door." He sighed and still, even after his short rant, went to answer the door. 

"How may I help- [Name]?" John asked as he opened the door, his anger diminishing as soon as he saw your face. 

"John! It's been so long, but please tell me you didn't forget I was coming to visit today?" You beamed and threw your arms over the man's shoulders in a hug. 

Seeing that John knew the person behind the door, Sherlock turned his attention to the duo, surprised to see a young man hugging the rather closed off military doctor. 

"Right, I am so sorry that I forgot, I've been busy lately, would you like to come in?" John offered, his face now bright with a smile as you let him go to walk through the widened doorway. 

"Thank you, but it is quite alright, I don't blame you. I didn't give you enough of a warning anyways." You returned his smile that never faltered when you noticed someone else in the room, "I didn't know you had a roommate John." 

"Right right, [Name], this is Sherlock Holmes, we're... a different version of friends, and Sherlock, this is my very good friend [Full Name]." John introduced the two of you. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you," You beamed and held out your hand towards the brunet, "I hope I'm not intruding." 

Sherlock took a moment to asses you before shaking your hand, "Likewise, don't talk to loud and you will be fine." He dropped your hand and quickly went back to his phone. It looked like he went back to whatever he was doing on his phone, but really had all of his attention on you. 

"Right, well we will actually be leaving shortly, so you won't have to worry about that." John answered for you, "Let me go shut down my laptop and grab my coat so we can leave." John said quickly before heading back up the stairs. 

You nodded and busied yourself by gazing around the flat, admiring the little details about the place. 

"How long have you known John?" Sherlock asked, drawing you from your thoughts. 

You thought about the question, "A long time, I've known him since I was eighteen, so I would say... seven, eight years? We kept in touch when he went into the military. Why do you ask?" 

"You seem rather friendly with him," Sherlock mused, "You fancy him?" You blushed, "Ah, probably past tense at that reaction, and by the way you greet him, you must have told him and been turned down to be able to move on and go back to being good friends." 

"I had a crush on him when I was young yes, and I did tell him, but I wasn't turned down," You said sheepishly, "One date and then I was turned down, why?" 

"Why after one date?" Sherlock pressed.

"Because I thought I was too old for him." John said with an unamused look when he walked into sitting room, "I would prefer it if you didn't deduce [Name] here and scare him off. Now, we will be out for a few hours." 

You linked your arm with the one John offered to you, "Shouldn't I be the one to say if I get deduced or not? Maybe I like it when someone can tell my entire past by a hug," You piped up, earning a sigh from John that made you giggle, "I'm kidding, It was nice meeting you Sherlock." 

Sherlock hummed and simply left it at that, letting John lead you out of the flat. He would certainly keep you in his mind. 

\-- 

"Please [Name], if you care for me at all you will not amuse Sherlock with his little mind games he likes to play," John chided as you both slipped into the back of a cab. 

"Awe," You whined, waiting for John to tell the driver your destination before speaking, "But it was rather interesting, how can I not? Plus it's not like I see you often enough to humor the man." 

"But the fact he didn't go any further after I told him not to worries me," John said seriously, "He never listens." 

You nodded, "I'll back off if you ask me too," You said with a smile, "So, what are you showing me today? It's been a while since I've been in London, I hope it's good." 

John returned your smile, relaxing at the topic change, "I figured I'd take you to the art museum you love before dinner, is that alright with you?" 

"It's brilliant!" You smiled, watching the buildings pass by out the window, "Did you hear that I'm moving back to England?" You said conversationally, "I'll be moving in with my aunt until I get enough money saved up for my own flat."

That started the male, "Why are you moving back? I thought you said you'd never leave Holland?" John asked. 

You sighed, "I don't want to leave, but I kind of got... fired?" 

"[Name]!" John barked, "What did you do?" 

"Do you want the truth, or a rather diluted version?" You asked and quickly avoided his eyes. John cleared his throat, making you look at him, and gave you that look that told you your answer, "My boss, a middle age privileged man, proposed that if I ever wish to become director, I would need to bend over his desk and show him, and I quote, 'that pretty little arse of mine'." John gaped at your words. 

"You've got to be kidding me." 

"No, he fired me after I firmly told him no, of course after I stuttered the first few times. So here I am... My stuff should be here tomorrow from Holland." You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. John was like your brother, and it felt weird having to tell him how someone wanted you to sleep with him in order to move up in your work place. 

"That is absolutely revolting, I'm glad you said no, even if it cost you your job." John stated, "But, the good thing is you're moving home, what will you be doing now?" 

"Uh, nothing," You shied a little away, "The Museum of London is looking for a tour guide, I have an interview in the morning. It's not nearly as fabulous as the job I had, but it's a start." You smiled sadly. 

"Oh [Name]," John wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you against him, "It's alright, it's a lovely museum, and I am sure you'll move up for find your place back here in London in no time with your credentials." 

You smiled at your friend, "Thank you, you're too sweet." 

\-- 

The next time you were over visiting John was a few days shy of a month later. This time he wasn't taking you out on the town, you were simply over to spend time with him, which consisted of reading whilst John was writing up on a recent case for his blog. 

"I had a sixteen year old try to get my number the other day when I was giving him and his friends a tour," You commented off-handedly, "It was quite obvious he wasn't interested in the displays I was showing." 

John snorted at your statement, "Really?" He asked, glancing at where you were laying across the couch. 

"Yeah, it was really awkward. I don't know what gave him the indication that he even had a chance with me," You mused. 

"It was probably the way you were dressed, which was...?" Sherlock piped from where he sat perched on a chair in the kitchen. When you arrived, you asked what he was looking at through the microscope, but he trailed off into many many large technical words you didn't understand, so you still didn't know what he was working on. 

"What I was wearing?" You parroted, "Uh, slacks and a button up, like I am supposed to?" You phrased it as a question because of your confusion to his own question.

"Don't say things like that Sherlock, it's like you're blaming the victim. [Name] did nothing wrong with however he dressed," John said in your defense, which was completely overlooked by Sherlock. 

The brunet glanced at you, "By the way you hold yourself, and the way I have seen you dress in everyday clothing, your slacks were probably too tight, as well as your shirt, giving off sex appeal that the boy clearly caught onto." The way he phrased the answer was as if it was obvious. 

"How should've I known that I was giving off that aura? And like John said, it shouldn't matter how I dress. I look good, and he was sixteen and should have kept it in his pants anyways." You scoffed, burying your nose in your book in effort to end the conversation. 

"It's obvious that you would be oblivious to such things," Sherlock added and made you blush (not that he could tell with the book covering your face), "Seeing as everyone interested in you has simply been for your physical attributes." 

"Sherlock!" John chastised in your behalf, gaping at the brunet's words. 

"What? It's true, the way he blushes is proof enough that I'm right. Tell me [Name]," He turned his attention from John to where you were cowering on the couch, "Have you ever been in a serious relationship at all?" 

You peeked over your book at the male, truly scared witless at the questions and strikingly correct assumptions about you and your life. Were you that bad of an open book. 

"U-Um... Not-Not really..." You muttered, glancing away, looking everywhere but at Sherlock.

"See?" Sherlock stated. 

John rolled his eyes and sighed, "I asked you to not deduce [Name]. I don't care anymore when you do this to me or literally anyone else, but [Name] doesn't deserve this." You smiled at your friend and the way he stood up for you. It really made you wish he gave you a chance for a relationship between the two of you. He would have treated you well. 

Even though you knew you got over that crush quite some time ago, living in a different country helped with that, but it still made you wonder of what would have happened if he didn't cut it off. 

Sherlock was observing you as you lost yourself in thought while gazing quite lovingly at the dirty blonde doctor. You were something he could easily pick apart, but couldn't wrap his mind around. Your sudden appearance a month ago from never having any other knowledge of you of course peaked his interest, but never faded. Usually when he found someone interesting, it would pass after he figured that person out, but not with you. 

He knew even before John even explained why you were moving back to London that you were fired from your job. The way you were explaining where you worked now was evidence enough of that. He knew that it was a normal occurrence for you to be hit on by other men, it would be shocking if you didn't because Sherlock found you more than attractive. 

"I don't understand why my love life has anything to do with the way I dress or why sixteen year olds think they have a chance with me. Are you saying I look easy?" You asked quietly and self-consciously. 

John looked over at you and frowned, "Of course not [Name], don't ever think that about yourself," John said softly, setting his laptop aside to come sit next to you on the couch. 

You shrugged, "Sometimes I think that, because it would make sense with the type of attention I attract." You laughed awkwardly and shut your book. Before John could respond to your words, you stood and picked up your messenger bag, "I think I'm going to head home for the night," You flashed John a small smile, "I'll see you later," You turned to were Sherlock was at the kitchen table, still watching you, "Have a good day Sherlock." With that, you quickly scurried out of the flat with dread filling you up. You knew you said too much. 

John growled and turned to Sherlock after the door shut behind your fleeing form, "Great, it's just like you to scare off my friends like that. I really don't appreciate that Sherlock," John said, standing to fetch his laptop. 

"I just couldn't help myself," Sherlock replied as he started looking back in the microscope, "Little [Name] was far too innocent not to take a jab at. Don't worry, he'll be fine." 

John paused, he was ready to storm off to his room because of the stunt Sherlock pulled, but now he was dumbfound and curious at Sherlock's choice of words, "What did you say?" 

"What? All I said was that [Name] will be fine." 

"No before that," John turned towards the brunet, "About 'little [Name]' and how he was 'far too innocent' to jab at, what was that?" He repeated, "Don't tell me this is some type of primary school flirting technique of teasing the boy you like." John didn't miss the pink that dusted the male's high cheekbones. 

"Of course not, [Name] is just an open book, anyone could find those things out about him from just a glance," Sherlock tried to defend himself, but to John he was failing. 

"Right, of course," John said quickly, "Because people do like to look at [Name], I'm sure they understood all of that from one look." The blond deadpanned, "If you fancy the man, stop making him feel bad about himself." 

"I don't fancy [Name]," Sherlock denied, "He's simply... interesting, that's all." 

John hummed, eyeing the brunet from the corner of his eye, he knew he hit the nail on the head with his previous statement, "Well, you thought the victim of our last case was 'interesting', but you certainly didn't look like you wanted to fuck him." 

With a loud clatter of Sherlock's chair across the kitchen floor, the brunet stood and started putting up the slides he was looking at in the microscope. He usually never put away his things for a few days. John had it right again. 

"If you'd just admit it, I might have had the heart to help you win his heart, but since you'd rather not, I won't." John said indifferently. 

Sherlock didn't say anything. He wanted to, but if he did, he knew there would be no turning back. 

\-- 

It was around ten-o-clock at night, on a Monday a month later, when you called John sobbing. 

"[Name]?" John said worriedly into the phone, immediately already going for his coat as soon as he heard your soft choked sobs, "What happened? Are you alright? Do I need to come get you?" 

There was another cry before a rougher version of your voice filtered through the phone, _"I-I just quit my job. A-and the director of my devision, he-he touched me John, and-and I don't know what to do, my aunt is surely going to kick me out when she finds out I blew it again."_

John heard you blow your nose, and took the lapse of silence to process what you had just said, "It's going to be alright [Name], where are you at? Is there somewhere you can go where I can meet you?" 

There was more silence, John assumed you were looking around at your surroundings, " _There's a pub down the road, the name is 'Lord' something." You paused and sniffed, "I'm sorry for calling you so late John, I really am."_

"Oh shut it [Name], I'll be there as soon as I can." John said with a smile, quickly hanging up and knocking on Sherlock's door to let him know he would be leaving. 

"Yes, what is it?" Sherlock asked when John opened the door to see him reviewing some case files. 

"There has been an incident with [Name], so I am off to fetch him, I'll be back later." John stated, turning to leave. 

Sherlock set everything aside, having heard John's side of the phone conversation and was already worried, even if he didn't show it, "What happened?" 

John swallowed, the reality of what you had told him apparently hitting him fully, "He quit, after he was practically molested by his boss. Now, I will be back."

Without another word, Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf and followed John out of their building. John didn't have any protests, mainly because he didn't realize the brunet was following him until he climbed into the back of the cab with him. 

John and Sherlock found you in the back of the pub in a booth, with a half-full glass of beer in front of you, obviously lost in thought. 

"[Name]," John said in a soft voice as he slid in the booth next to you, Sherlock across from you, "Are you alright?" 

You gave the blond a week smile, as well as giving Sherlock one, "I'm ok I suppose," You laughed weakly, "I've been better." 

John smiled a little and nodded, "I suppose you have had better days," He turned his attention to the waitress who walked up to take their orders and only spoke up again once she left, "...do you want to tell us what happened?" He asked softly. 

You glanced at Sherlock across from the two of you, before turning your attention back towards John, "Sure, just, the gist. I don't want to go too into detail..." You trailed off. 

"That is perfectly acceptable, whatever you are comfortable with." 

You took a deep breath and nodded, "I was doing a walk through all of the exhibits before closing the building down, and he caught me off guard. All he said was that he was going to do the walk through with me, I made a comment a few days ago that I thought the museum at night was a little spooky with all the old art and relics, and he cornered me in the Roman gallery. 

"He kissed me and manhandled me against the wall and-and," You looked down at your palms as you started to grow queasy, "-he shoved a hand down the front of my pants. You can imagine what he was doing, and then the hand that were holding my wrists tried to get my trousers undone. I-I don't know how I got out of his hold, but as soon as I did, I said I quit and ran. I left my jacket and other silly personal things there, I had my wallet and I just fled." You weren't meeting either of their eyes, not wanting to see their disgust and pity. "D-Do you think I'm doing something? To get this type of attention for people?" You whispered as you looked up at John.

"You have done nothing wrong, this is all those men's doing. You are not to blame. You could walk the street naked and you would still not be at fault, don't ever think that [Name]." John said sternly, vaguely reminding you of your father when he was telling you a firm 'no' on something. The sweet action made you smile. 

"I'm calling Mycroft," Sherlock suddenly said and whipped out his phone, "I will not tolerate anything like this to happen again, to you [Name] or anyone." He seethed, and when his eyes caught yours, they were dark and filled with a fiery emotion you've never seen before. 

He stood from the booth and walked out of the pub as he spoke with this 'Mycroft' person on the phone. 

"What was that about?" You turned to John for an explanation, but his smile only confused you more. 

"He's quite taken with you [Name], he wouldn't have called Mycroft if you were anyone else, well, he doesn't call at all, he likes texting." John said wistfully, "I just hope he makes a move, because you need someone who will care for you like what he is showing." 

"I don't understand," You said quietly, "I just told him I was almost raped and you're saying he has a crush on me because he's calling someone?" 

"Mycroft is Sherlock's brother," John started, "and Mycroft is a very high government employee." John paused and sighed, "He would never call him if he had to, but seeing him call Mycroft as simple as that, you must mean something to him." 

Despite the ill feeling in your stomach you still felt after tonights events, a blush filled your cheeks at the thought of Sherlock being into you. You found him incredibly handsome, so it was flattering and very assuring knowing there were others interested in you than those sick men who tried to force themselves on you.

Sherlock strode back into the pub a few minutes later looking not as angry as he did when he left. 

"What did you say to Mycroft?" John asked when Sherlock sat back down, "And what did he say?" 

"It has all been taken care of," The brunet stated, looking you fiercely in the eye you braced yourself against the booth, "And if you are ever interested in another job, I can assure you that you can get any job you wish." 

"I-I don't know how to thank you," You whispered, dropping your eyes to your glass in front of you, "Can I stay at your flat tonight? I don't feel like facing my aunt's wrath tonight." 

"Of course," Sherlock answered. 

"What is wrong with your aunt anyways? You said something about her kicking you out on the phone, why would she do that? From what I remembered, she was a lovely lady," John asked. 

"Ha, that's funny," You deadpanned, "Ever since my mother died, she's been weird with me. When I asked to live with her until I got back on my feet, she only said yes when my father promised to pay her for every month I was there." 

"That's sick, I'm so sorry [Name]. I'll do whatever I can to help you get out of there." John promised, patting your hand in a sign of affection. 

"I've got enough saved up for a deposit, I was just going to ask my dad if I could dip into my trust fund for the first month's payment once I find a place." You explained, feeling a bit better as you moved off topic. 

"Then I'll help you look for a place." You smiled and nodded, "Now, let's get you back so you can rest." John said, waving over the waitress to pay for their drinks, including your own. 

\--

You didn't just stay that night at their flat. 

That one night turned into two, and then three and four because your aunt did in fact kick you out because you got fired. She didn't even wait to listen to the reason behind you quitting, she simply said she was calling your father to tell him what a failure you were. If she knew you already called him and he was completely fine with the fact. 

John was helping you find a place to live each day, even going with you to open houses and what not as you looked. Sherlock, shockingly, came along each time. 

"Do you want your job back?" Sherlock asked suddenly on the night of day four. You were lounging on the couch beside the brunet who looked from his book to you. 

"Um... I don't know. I'd like to get another job, I just don't know how I would react to giving tours past the place of what could have been." You replied honestly. 

"Your boss was fired, if that is what is worrying you, and you could always make new memories to take up the place of the old ones," He said simply, "What I am trying to say is I can get you your job back if you'd like." 

You smiled and hid how taken back you were by his proposal, "Well... uh, then if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have my job back. Because I think that is the reason why my housing applications aren't being accepted because technically I am unemployed." 

"It's done then. I will have them call you in the morning," He said as he took out his phone and started texting someone. 

With a grin you scooted over on the couch to place a kiss on his cheek, "Thank you, for everything you've done. I appreciate it." 

Sherlock reached up to his cheek to brush his fingers over where you kissed as he looked at you with a questioning look, "If that's how you wish to repay me, I believe I'm going to need quite a few more to really feel your thanks." He smirked, chuckling at your flushed face. 

That was not the reaction you were expecting. 

"Right!" You squeaked and scrambled off the couch, "I-I think I'll just get you a gift card, people like gift cards right? I'll ask John." You hurried out before dashing to where John was hid in his room. 

Sherlock watched you with an amused expression as you ran off, enjoying your delightfully innocent reactions to his teasing. It may be 'primary school flirting' like John put it, but it seemed to work with you. Plus with someone as little experience as you, he couldn't just come right out and say he wanted to have sex with you the instant he first met you. No, that wouldn't help his case at all. 

He would have to take his time and tease you until you caved to his taunting. 

And he would be perfectly fine with however long it took as well, he would just have to keep calling the relators to deny your applications so you could stay here.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter @ren_writes


End file.
